


The Whole Romance Thing

by 8sword



Series: The Whole Romance Thing [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: College, Dad!Castiel, Dad!Dean, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, Femslash, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, daddy!dean, pre femslash, stepsisters!Claire and Emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8sword/pseuds/8sword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their second semester of college, Claire studies abroad.</p><p>It might be understatement to say it leaves Emma out of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whole Romance Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [His Fucking Kids](https://archiveofourown.org/works/662981) by [8sword](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8sword/pseuds/8sword). 



Notes:

Written for my dearest [loversforlycanthropes](../users/loversforlycanthropes/pseuds/loversforlycanthropes), who prodded me along as I wrote bits and pieces of this particular installment. Special thanks to [orange_8_hands](../users/orange_8_hands/pseuds/orange_8_hands), whose delightful SPN ladies fic [Make Us Stronger](1005851?view_adult=true) prompted me to finish sewing this together and post it.

This fic takes place in the [His Fucking Kids 'verse](../series/40950), but I have decided to post it as a separate fic because it moves toward Claire/Emma territory. If you haven't read HFK, all you really need to know is that this takes place in an AU in which Emma didn't die, Benny's not in Purgatory, and sixteen-year-old Claire and Emma grew up with Dean and Cas in Sioux Falls.

 

* * *

 

                Their second semester of college, Claire studies abroad.

                It might be understatement to say it leaves Emma out of sorts. It's not like Claire gave them much warning, just pulled out a manila envelope full of paperwork when they got home for Christmas break and informed everyone that she'd been accepted for a semester-long program in Barcelona.

                That night, Emma heard Dean talking to Cas in their bedroom. "This is why I didn't want them rooming together," he was saying, voice so loud and upset that Emma could hear it even with their door closed, and wow, look, one more way being an Amazon's made her life suck, and she crept downstairs to the living room where the Christmas tree decorations were still glowing, sending colored shadows up onto the ceiling.

                It was this same time that, the year before, she and Claire had both been accepted to their college and sat down with Dean and Cas to talk about where they'd be living, because Cas had thought it would be a good experience for them to live in a dorm but Dean had said no way was it a good idea to have Emma stuck in a place with so little privacy given...well. You know. The Amazon thing. Which was how Claire had ended up saddled with sharing an apartment off-campus with Emma, because she said it didn't make sense for them to live in two different places, even though Dean kept hinting that it might be a good idea for them to have some space from each other. Like he thought they might get tired of each other, and hey look--he was right.

                Emma wrapped her arms around her knees and watched the tinsel gleam until Dean came downstairs in his stupid gray robe and sat next to her. He didn't say anything as he cupped a hand around her head and pulled it against his shoulder so they could stare at the Christmas tree together.

 

\- o -

 

                Two weeks into the new semester, someone sets off one of the fire alarms in the apartment complex. It's three in the morning and fucking freezing, but they all have to go outside and wait on the other side of the street for the fire department to come and clear the buildings. Emma's never been around other people in her pajamas before, and even with her winter jacket pulled over her usual sleep hoodie, she feels embarrassingly naked in the Disney Princess pajama pants Claire got her as a joke after the whole Portia and James spell debacle.

                Still, at least she's not _actually_ naked. There's a huge guy standing on the very edge of the curb in nothing but a bright orange towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his hair as he talks loudly to anyone who will listen about how fucking cold his nipples are right now.

                Emma can't help it; she chokes on a snort of laughter because it sounds like something Dean would say.

                The guy looks up at the sound, looks straight at her. "Oh my God, I don't get it, how do you ladies deal with this everyday?" he says with another gesture at his nipples.

                 Emma's frozen like a deer in the headlights, because he's already sauntering over and hunching his shoulders as he plants his feet next to her. He's huge, almost Sam's height, but built like Benny, and all that bulk is shaking with shivers, covered in goosebumps, and maybe that's why when he pushes his shoulder against Emma's with a chattered, "Shit, I'm cold," she doesn't move away.

                That's how Emma Winchester meets Ajax Papadakis, who, he claims, is an unfortunate as his name. "See this?" he says once his shivers have died down a little. He gestures down at his toweled self and the night around them. "Things like this happen to me on a regular basis. I'm like an embarrassment magnet."

                Emma attempts to sidle away.

                "Oh no!" he says, scooting after. "You're wearing Princess Ariel PJs, they make me feel less lame."

                Emma glares at him. He laughs loudly. And when the firefighters finally get there, he shouts, "Sorry, fellas, didn't mean to set off the alarm with all this hotness!" and shakes his hips. Emma stares and Ajax laughs, and they are given a wide berth by everyone else on the sidewalk.

                Ajax apparently has an entire three-room apartment to himself because apparently he's kind of rich and his mom wanted to make sure he would be focused on his studies. "But really it just makes it easier to have sex," he informs Emma. "No one's around to complain about walking in on me naked on the couch or whatever."

                Emma has never encountered this level of openness before, except maybe from Garth, and it simultaneously awes and terrifies and delights her. Although, to be fair, it is three o'clock in the morning, and she's not entirely sure she's not just dreaming this giant of a boy with his mile-an-hour mouth and belly laugh.

                But the next afternoon when she comes out of the huge auditorium her biology class is in, Ajax is waiting next to the really disgusting trash can where everyone puts their grease-covered paper plates from the cheap pizza place across the street. He falls into step with her, already talking: "Could you please tell me how it makes sense that I have to take an art history class when I'm an engineering major? It's like making a gay guy go out on a date with a chick, or something!"

                Emma gives him a weird look.

                "I'm not as crazy as I sound, I promise."

                Emma gives him an _are you sure?_ look. She's gotten kind of used to not talking much, without Claire around, more raised eyebrows and head nods or shakes than anything else, but she didn't realize it until this moment, when Ajax says, "Dude, you _can_ talk, right?"

                "Fuck you," Emma says. Her voice is only a little rusty, and Ajax doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he's too busy bursting into more belly laughter to say anything about it.

                She feels a little bit like smiling, as they walk home together.

 

\- o -

 

                After that, he's always there after biology, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at four o'clock because his Intro to Engineering TA always lets them out early, and eventually walking home together becomes, "Oh my God, I need some coffee before I go back to my dungeon, let's stop at Starbucks," becomes, "Oh my God, Emma, I'm _starving_ , let's go eat an early bird dinner like old people," becomes all-nighters at the library playing air hockey with Skittles on the study table until the overnight librarian kicks them out.

 

\- o -

 

                Cas always puts their phone calls on speaker phone, which is a vague relief because Emma's not sure what she would say to Dean if it was just him and her on the phone. They talk more in looks and touches, her and Dean, their words too awkward to get anything across, but with Cas between them it's easier: He can ask about Emma's biology project and Dean can say, "Dude, she called us to get a _break_ from schoolwork, Cas, not to get interrogated on it," and Cas can bristle, "I was merely checking to see if she needed help, Dean," and Emma can snicker at them bickering, and it can feel almost like she's home again except for the doorway to Claire's room being dark and empty.

                Pounding begins on her door. "Emma, I just got front-row tickets to the football game, get your butt out here so we can go see Darren Macmore's ass up close!"

                Dean's already spluttering on the other end of the phone. "Whose ass what?"

                "COMING!" Emma shouts at the door and shoves the phone between her shoulder and chin to shove on a pair of shoes and grab a jacket. "I'm gonna run, you guys--"

                "Whose ass?" Dean is demanding as Cas says, "Have fun, Emma," and Ajax is yodeling, "Come on come on come oooooon" through the door and Emma doesn't think about Claire even once the rest of the night.

 

\- o -

 

                So if she's honest, Emma was kind of a homebody in Sioux Falls, and that hasn't changed much at college. At least, it _hadn't_ ; but now it seems like she's out every night, at the library or the movies or even just the pizza place across the street from their apartment, switching back and forth between kicking Ajax's ass at pool and having her ass kicked by him at foosball. (But Scott, the owner, can kick both their asses at air hockey.)

                The one thing she hasn't let Ajax drag her into, though, is the whole going-out thing. He always invites her, she always declines, and he's so good at not taking no for an answer that she probably shouldn't be surprised that one Friday night he shows up her apartment anyway, smelling strongly of cologne and with his blonde hair gelled within an inch of its life.

                Emma is on Skype with Claire at the time. It's the first chance she's gotten to talk to her in three weeks, and Claire looks tanned and sophisticated and as many miles away from Emma as she actually is. Emma's in her usual nighttime hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, and Ajax eyes both articles of clothing with disapproval as he comes inside, clearly having decided to dispense with the courtesy of knocking.

                "Really?" he says. "Really, Emma?"

                Claire's eyebrow arches up. Her eyes flit to the edge of the screen, clearly looking for the source of the voice. "I didn't know you were having guests."

                "He's not a guest," Emma says, feeling awkward and guilty and also kind of proud at the same time, because yeah, maybe Claire's getting all glamorous over there in Spain and being admired by tons of Latino guys like the ones who always eyed her so eagerly at the conferences they go to with Cas, but at least Emma's not actually alone, over here. She's made a friend Claire doesn't know, a friend all on her own.

                "Are you Claire? You must be Claire," Ajax says, getting his huge body in front of Emma to peer down at Claire on the laptop screen. "You've got, like, a Claire vibe going on. Will you please tell your sister to take off her granny panties and put on her big girl thong so we can go out?"

                Emma''s half mortified and half dying with laughter.

                "I wasn't aware Emma owned a thong," Claire says after a moment.

                "Do you?" Ajax demands, twisting around to look at Emma. She gives him an _I'm going to kill you and then I'm going to kill you again_ look, and he twists back around. "Never mind. Change of plans. I'm taking Emma thong shopping. Say goodbye, Claire!" He makes a smooching sound and pushes Emma's laptop shut. Emma stares at it, then at him.

                Ajax's lips purse. Some of his usual airy expression sags into something more serious, a downward curve of his mouth.

                "You always get all mopey when you talk to her," he says defiantly. "Let her be the one left alone for once."

                Emma's eyes skitter away. She curls her hands in her lap, and after a moment, Ajax tugs her hair. "C'mon," he says. "Victoria's Secret is having their five for twenty-five sale."

 

\- o -

 

                Eventually Claire comes back, sun-browned and smelling of sun and exotic lotions, her teeth whiter than Emma remembered in her face. Dean goes to pick her up from the airport, and Emma, just home from her final exams, stays home with Cas to bake a Welcome Back cake. They still have black and orange bat sprinkles left over from last Halloween, and Emma pours them into the white batter, chortling to herself because it'll drive Claire crazy to have a holiday-themed cake when it's not a holiday because she's anal like that, and Cas with his steady, deliberate hands is in charge of making the frosting decorations and writing the _Welcome Home_ on the top of the cake. They have _Welcome to Night Vale_ on as they work, because Cas has grown quite fond of the program and Emma kind of really likes liking the same things Cas does, so she gives it a try, except her phone keeps buzzing with texts from Ajax, who stayed at school for the summer semester.

**this place is such a snorefest w/o u**

**remember, yr summer homework is to watch all of buffy**

**i'll send u my netflix password if u need it**

**oh my god i just saw the hottest guy ever**

**except yr dad he's still number 1**

**he doesn't read yr txt mssages does he?**

                They hear the Impala when it pulls up the house, the rumble as audible as ever. Emma licks the frosting from her fingers, abruptly nervous; she feels a little bit like she might throw up.

                She might as well not have worried, Claire acts the same as ever, raising her eyebrow at Emma in that unimpressed way she always has, the little smirk denting the corner of her mouth like she's sharing an inside joke with Emma, and she has gifts for Dean and Cas, these ornately tooled leather wallets from a marketplace in Barcelona. Emma doesn't get a present, which, you know, that's okay, it's enough to have Claire back.

                Claire has tons and tons of pictures on her phone and her camera to show them; Dean makes them take their dinner (spaghetti, Claire's favorite) into the living room and Cas rigs up the laptop so they watch them on slide show, all of them crammed together on the couch and Emma sits on the floor, legs under the coffee table and plate on her lap. All the pictures are of Claire with people, people grinning and laughing and with their arms slung around Claire and Claire's arm slung around them, and Claire has stories to go with each of them: "This was the night we went to Cordoba," and "This was the day we got invited to go to a wedding in the church," and "This is the zoo we went to where I got to feed a toucan."

                Emma listens, and watches, and volunteers to take their plates to the kitchen and wash them up when they're done eating. Her phone buzzes again while she's pulling out the party plates for the cake.

**i just found one of your flip flops in my apartment i'm going to build a shrine for it until u get back**

                Emma snorts with laughter and texts back **make sure the offerings r nonperishable** ,which gets her a **is Spam OK** and she's laughing again as Claire comes into the kitchen.

                Her light eyes take in Emma's grin and the phone in her hand. "Ajax?"

                Emma's smile falters a little. She hadn't really told Claire about Ajax, had only mentioned him kind of off-hand. "Um. Yeah."

                "He seems nice."

                "Based on what?" Emma says a little suspiciously.

                Claire shrugs. "Just what Cas has said."

                What did Cas say about Ajax, Emma wonders. But she doesn't have much time to wonder; Dean's calling, "Did you guys get lost with the cake? Should I go buy some pie instead?"

                Claire rolls her eyes at Emma, and Emma smiles back, handing the silverware and plates to Claire to take to the living room and grabbing the cake plate herself.

               

\- o -

 

                When she wakes up the next morning, her old pillow case smelling unfamiliar against her face after so long at school, there's a flat white box next to her on the comforter. Emma turns over under her covers and blinks at it. Then she sighs and pushes up on her elbows, glancing over her shoulder at her closed bedroom door, and pulls off the top of the box.

                There's white tissue paper inside. Emma folds it back, revealing silky white fabric and small rhinestones that spell out, _Barcelona Babe_.

                It's a thong.

 

\- o -

 

                "Yeah, real convenient that your boyfriend's out of town when it's time to move you guys back in," Dean grumps as he heaves one of Emma's suitcases up the apartment stairs in August.

                "I told you I could carry them myself," Emma retorts crabbily, hauling another suitcase up behind him. "I didn't need help."

                "Less complaining, more carrying," Cas says from below them; he has a new microwave balanced in his arms because their old one broke right before Emma left for the summer. "When will Ajax be back, Emma?"

                "Oh, sometime," she says vaguely. Ajax still isn't something she's completely comfortable discussing with her family yet. He still exists in this other sphere where he can't touch them and they can't touch him and that way nothing is threatened.

                "He's not imaginary, is he?" Dean says as they finally get to their door.

                Claire, who's carrying the least, moves past all of them to unlock it. "He's not imaginary," she says. "I met him."

                "Yeah, on 'Skype,'" Dean says. The quotation marks are audible in his voice. Cas hasn't yet been able to convince him of the merits of Skype over a plain telephone, and Dean still seems to believe that Skype is some sort of weird virtual dating site.

                Cas rolls his eyes at the girls. "Why don't you go get the rest of the things out of the car," he says, pushing Dean none too subtly back toward the door, and Dean flashes a grin at him, steals a kiss before clattering back down the stairs.

                "Next time we're moving in on our own," Emma mutters to Claire, who gives a fervent head nod of agreement.

 

\- o -

 

                "Ajax can come over, you know," Claire says that night, when Cas and Dean are gone and they're in the living room, sorting through their book lists and old pens to see which ones still work after a summer without use. "Don't feel like you have to...I don't know, hide him."

                "I'm not _hiding_ him," Emma says, just this side of irritated.

                Claire gives her a _sure you aren't_ look and goes back to testing her highlighters.

                "Speaking of hiding," Emma says. "What, you were too scared to give me the thong in person?"

                For the first time in a long time, pink filters up Claire's neck. But she raises her head to meet Emma's eyes. "On a scale of one to ten, how awkward would you have been if I handed that to you?"

                "Ten billion," Emma admits.

                "So." Claire shrugs one shoulder. "There you go, then."

                Emma grumbles.

                Claire's hair is a curtain in front of her face, concealing her expression as she drags the highlighter down the piece of color-spattered paper, as she says, "Have you worn it?"

                Emma can't really breathe. Isn't sure what to say. She's saved by her phone buzzing, and it's Ajax texting, and the message says, **CAN I COEM IN** , and she runs to push the door open, as much to show Claire she's not afraid as because she _is_ afraid, of where the rest of that conversation could have led.

 

\- o -

 

                Thanksgiving comes almost before they know it. Claire has started taking Portuguese classes as well as Spanish ones as well as her pre-law classes because she's some sort of masochist, but Emma can't really talk because somehow she was stupid enough to sign up for three classes with lab components this semester and really, Ajax says, anyone who does something like that should be Baker Acted.

                "The Baker Act only exists in Florida," Claire informs him, which earns her a _really, Claire, was that really necessary_ face from each of them. "Besides, it's not as if you have room to criticize, you're taking the same classes."

                "Yeah, but we already knew _I_ wasn't sane." Ajax leans his chair back on two legs. "Emma, my dearest darling-heart, you know I treasure you above all things in the universe, but if you don't finish that lab in ten minutes so we can leave I am going to sit on you and smush you into an Emma-flavored pancake."

                "Maybe I could concentrate better if you would stop running your pancake-hole," Emma retorts, squinting at a bar graph on her computer screen.

                "Tsk tsk, such language. What would your father say?"

                "Which one?" Claire mutters.

                "The hot one," Ajax says, and Claire and Emma both roll their eyes because yes, yes, people find Dean attractive, okay, that's great, but they're kind of tired of hearing people wax poetic about his eyes and/or his skill in the sack. "You know, I've been meaning to ask, are his eyes actually literally that blue or does he wear contacts?"

                Emma and Claire's eyes fly toward one another's.

                "Wait," Emma says, pushing away from her computer. "All this time you've been talking about _Cas_?"

                "Uh," Ajax says. "Yeah? I mean, obviously Dean's a looker, but he kind of screams high maintenance and Cas is just, like... _holy fucking fuck_. You know?"

                "No," Claire says dryly.

                "Kind of," Emma says. Which earns her a _really_? look from Claire.

                Ajax rolls his eyes at them both. Then he kicks the leg of Emma's chair, pointing at her computer. "Move it, Cinderella!"

 

\- o -

 

                The fact that Ajax's mom agreed to let him go to Emma's house for Thanksgiving, he informs Emma, is kind of a miracle. Because his mom is crazy-protective and always wants him to come home for family functions at the holidays, but when Ajax told her Emma had invited him to her house for Thanksgiving, she nearly had a cow with happiness because she's convinced Emma's going to be the one to turn Ajax straight and have chubby blond trust fund babies with him.

                It really awes Emma, sometimes, how blithely unconcerned about his mom's disregard of his sexuality Ajax can be. At the same time it doesn't awe her at all because she knows that when something really bothers you, you hide it, and it's times like those, maybe, that she loves Ajax most.

                They take Ajax's car to Sioux Falls "because my car's fucking awesome, let's face it," Ajax says, and also "because it's the gentlemanly thing to do."

                "Why would you turn over a new leaf now," Emma says.

                "Har har," Ajax retorts, flicking her in the butt, and Emma yelps and kicks back in revenge, dangerously close to his dick, which has him doubling over on the sidewalk and howling, "STOOOOOP, EMMA, I DON'T WANNA BE ONLY A CATCHER MY WHOLE LIFE" as the people in the parking lot around them look on.

                By the time they get to Sioux Falls, Benny's already there, his truck with his camper settled on the grass next to the driveway. Emma scrambles out of Ajax's car, forgetting her manners in her eagerness to see Benny. The vampire's already stepping out of the front door onto the porch, teeth gleaming quick and white as he sees her.

                She stops just short of slamming into him with a hug, stopping in front of him and grinning instead, but Benny grabs her up anyway, swinging her around in a hug that has her cackling delightedly. She sees Cas smiling in the doorway over his shoulder, Dean sneaking up behind him with an ice cube in his hand, probably to drop it down Cas's shirt, and Emma's so happy she could burst.

                Benny sets her down. "Well, well," he says, stepping down the porch stairs. "This must be Ajax."

                Ajax is coming up the path from the driveway with Claire. "Yes, sir."

                "We've heard a lot about you," Benny drawls.

                "There's a lot of me to talk about," Ajax says, patting his stomach.

                A smile slides onto Benny's face. He eases his cap off and stuffs it into a pocket, holding his hand out to Ajax. "Benny LaFitte. I'm these ladies' uncle."

                "Pleased to meet you, sir." Ajax shakes his hand firmly. Then his eyes are going past Benny and Emma to the porch, where Cas and Dean still are. Dean appears to have decided not to do anything with his ice cube; he's eyeing Ajax instead, his forehead creased not _quite_ deeply enough to be a frown.

                Ajax takes one step forward, then a few more, until he's advancing up the front steps to hold his hand out to Dean. "Ajax Papadakis," he says.

                Only Emma notices the minute flick of Dean's eyes upward--toward the devil's trap carved into the wood of the porch ceiling, checking it for any flaws--and then back to Ajax's face. He steps forward, then, and grips Ajax's hand. "Dean Winchester. Come on in."

 

\- o -

 

                "Wait, so Emma brought a boyfriend home and you didn't even tell us?" Sam's indignant voice is as shrill as ever even through the phone.

                "Not her boyfriend," Claire says. She's dicing tomatoes at the counter.

                Sam snorts. "Sure he's not."

                "Pretty sure he's not," Dean says, glancing through the kitchen window to the backyard where Ajax is standing with Benny near the grill. He's telling some story that has his arms spread wide and flailing around, and Emma's cracking up. "I swear he was checking Cas out."

                "WHAT?!" Sam nearly screeches.

                Dean exchanges grins with Claire. "Told you you should've come to have Thanksgiving with us."

                "Yeah, 'cause it was my choice to spend Thanksgiving with the father-in-law who criticizes everything I do," Sam says sarcastically. He raises his voice to be heard. "I want pictures, Claire, got it?"

                Claire rolls her eyes. Then makes a grabby hand at Dean for the salt, which he passes to her.

                "All right, Sammy, we gotta go. We've got some meat to put on the grill."

                "Stop taunting me," Sam whines. "I'm stuck with hot dog macaroni and cheese over here."

                "Hey!" comes Amelia's indignant voice through the phone.

                "Uh," Sam says.

                Dean laughs and snaps his phone shut, tossing it onto the kitchen table. "How're those tomatoes going, Chef Novak?"

                Claire cast him an amused look. She always seems amused when he treats her like a little kid, but she's never called him out on it, either, so until she does he'll keep doing it. "Think they're done."

                "Awesome." Dean pulls out the skewers and hands a few to Claire so they can start putting together the kabobs. He's done it so much that it's mostly automatic motions by now, like field-stripping his guns or cleaning them, and he finds his attention wandering back to the window again, to the monster of a kid standing in his backyard next to Emma.

                "He's really good with her," Claire says quietly. He flicks a glance up, but her eyes are still on the kabobs, long elegant hands moving gracefully like Cas's as they spear the meat on the silver skewers. "Like a giant teddy bear." She pauses in her skewering, considering. "A giant teddy bear who calls her on her shit."

                Dean smiles, a little. But the worry in his chest doesn't ease, exactly.

 

\- o -

 

                Sunrise the next morning finds him and Benny on the back deck, stretched out on the Adirondacks with mugs of coffee. It's fucking cold out, as usual, not that it makes a difference to Benny, who's in his sleep shirt and pants and nothing else, not even a jacket. Dean makes a sound of disgust and goes in to grab Benny's coat and throw it on him. The last thing they need is Emma's human friend seeing him and wondering why the hell a guy can sit around when it's freezing in nothing but a thin t-shirt and not look cold.

                Dean himself is fully dressed, jeans and layered shirts and all. He never had friends over to his house when he was younger--never _had_ a house, when he was younger --but he imagines Emma might be kind of embarrassed to have her dad walking around in his pajamas and bed head in front of her friend. So he was careful to shower and shave and everything, so he wouldn't embarrass her.

                 He doesn't have his boots on, though. He'd compromised and just grabbed two of the first slippers he found inside. Mismatched slippers are sort of an institution in their household, new ones being exchanged every Christmas and birthday, and today he's got Flounder from _The Little Mermaid_ (a gift for Claire's birthday after the Disney thing) on one foot and Wolverine on the other.

                "Hey," he says when Benny looks down at them and raises an eyebrow. "They're both yellow, okay?"

                "Okay," Benny says, and leans his head back to hide his smirk.

                Dean kicks his feet up on the porch banister, studying Wolverine's upside-down scowl. After a moment, he says, "You pickin' up anything weird on this kid?"

                Benny rolls an eye over his way. "Aside from his name, you mean?"

                Dean grins. "Poor fucker."

                "Andrea knew a Papadakis," Benny says after a moment. "Wonder if they're related."

                Dean watches him from the corner of his eye. Benny doesn't seem maudlin, though, just thoughtful, running his teeth back and forth across his lip.

                After a while, he glances over at Dean again. "Think you're just bein' suspicious 'cause he likes Emma and Emma likes him, brother."

                Dean gives a half shrug. "He's not the kind of guy I saw her with, is all."

                Benny takes a sip from his mug. "Don't think it's like that."

                "Yeah, I know that," Dean says, a little irritably. Why do people keep assuming he can't tell when his kid's got a crush or not? He may not be the best dad in the world, but he's not _stupid_.

                Benny grins, small and sly. "Wasn't sure how clear you were on the whole romance thing, considerin' how long it took you to get your head out of your ass about Cas."

                Dean doesn't say anything. Just pulls his feet down from the banister and into the chair with him instead, knees close to his chest with his coffee cupped between them. The steam floats up into his face, slow and warm.

                "Just seems too easy," he says finally. "Nothing in our lives is ever this easy, Benny."

                "Ain't that the whole point?" Benny says. "Seems like all I ever hear that brain of yours thinkin' 'bout is how you can make sure those girls have it better growin' up than you did." He places his mug on the arm of his chair. "You don't think maybe this is part of that?"

                Dean gives a little smile against his knee before it turns resigned. "I just don't want her to get hurt when something happens, is all."

                "Well, somethin's always gonna happen," Benny says. "You just gotta make when it does, you're there to help her up afterward."

                There's a creak behind them. They both crane around to see Emma stepping out onto the deck. She's dressed like Dean, wearing a hoodie and jeans and one Scooby Doo and one Batman slipper, and she's holding a mug.

                "Somebody drank all the coffee," she says crabbily. She comes over to Benny and picks up his huge **#1 Uncle** mug to pour half of its contents into her own, giving him a you-could've-started-a-new-pot-if-you-were-going-to-empty-it glare as she does it. "What're you doing out here?"

                "Talkin' 'bout you," Benny says. "Dean's sayin' as how he bets you're gonna cry when you taste his pecan pie this year."

                Emma looks at Dean. He looks back at her, makes to get up from his chair so she can sit. Emma shakes her head and sits on the arm of the chair instead, balancing her Scooby Doo-slippered foot on top of his knee. Dean blinks, because she's never done that before, never been quite that casual with him before, but he thinks back to last night, to Emma sitting on the arm of the armchair Ajax was in, comfortable in other people's space for the first time he'd ever seen, and maybe in that moment he forgives Ajax, a little, for taking away a part of the little girl he wasn't ready to let go of yet.

 

\- o -

 

                "Well?" Ajax says. He and Claire are in the kitchen after the Novak-Winchesters' huge Thanksgiving dinner, washing up dishes because everyone else is actually interested in watching the football game. Well, except Cas, but Dean's arm had had a pretty firm hold around his shoulders that didn't look like it had plans of letting go any time soon. "Was I charming enough?"

                "I think you sufficed," Claire says. She hands him the huge glass pie plate to dry.

                "I think I was awesome," Ajax says. "I'm pretty sure Benny wants to adopt me."

                "Benny wants to adopt everyone," Claire says. "I'll admit, you calling Emma princess helped."

                Ajax is in the process of preening when a voice like grating rocks comes from behind them. "Ajax."

                Ajax spins, eyes wide. Claire hides a smile behind a soap-suds-covered hand. "Sir!"

                "I'd like to speak to you for a moment," Cas says.

                Ajax flicks Claire a panicked glance. She shrugs at him. He turns back to Cas, squaring his shoulders. "Yes, sir. Lead the way, sir."

                Cas's eyes narrow slightly as he regards Ajax, as though inspecting him for sarcasm. Then he turns to the door that leads onto the back deck, pushing it open and waiting for Ajax to walk outside before following him.

                He lets the door fall shut behind him, then advances toward Ajax. "What are your intentions toward Emma?"

                Ajax's back hits the deck banister. "Um...friendship?"

                Cas comes closer. He's shorter than Ajax, but he's somehow looming over him despite it. "And?"

                "And--uh--uh--" Ajax swallows. "Indentured servitude?"

                Cas's eyes narrow. He stares Ajax down for a longer moment. Sweat trickles down Ajax's temples.

                "Understood." Castiel finally steps back, and Ajax slumps like a puppet with cut strings. "Let it be known, Ajax Papadakis, that should you harm Emma in any way, a wrath will be visited upon you as has been unwitnessed by human eyes in millennia."

                Ajax stares. Then, realizing Emma's dad is expecting a response, he nods rapidly.

                "Very well." Cas sounds darkly satisfied. "Carry on."

                He heads back inside the house.

                Ajax leans against the desk railing. He gulps down sharp cold lungfuls of air.

                Claire pushes out the back door, easing it shut behind her. She's grinning. "Were you charming enough?"

                "Guh," Ajax says.

                "You're still alive," Claire says, "so you must have sufficed."

                Ajax shoots her a dirty look.

                Claire laughs.

 

 

 


End file.
